Steve stepped back. “You’re right, he does, but only because he’s that good. Anyone else would be on the street with no one remembering who he was.” He watched me pack for a second. “Listen, all I’m saying is, don’t get too caught up in reporting the Drake Rollins story. Do it as well as you can and then get back here and start writing about more important things.”
I surveyed my desk and nodded. “Thanks for your concern, Steve.” I picked up my bag and brushed by him, heading toward the door.
About 10 feet later I stopped, turned around, and walked back to him, taking my wallet out and handing Steve $50. “Put that on ‘Drake makes the team’ for me, will you?”
Steve paused for a moment while he understood what I’d said, then smiled and took my money, taking out his wallet and dropping it in. “I’ll do that. You take care of yourself out there, yeah?”
I laughed. “Steve, I’m going to Foxboro. It’s not Afghanistan, it’s not Antarctica. It’s like 40 miles away.”
“Fine, fine, get yourself lost, then. See if I care.”
I smiled. “Bye, Steve.”
I said goodbye to a couple other coworkers on the way, people I was just starting to get to know since I had arrived. They all treated me with sympathy, like I was leaving forever, never to return.
What the hell? It’s not like I was dying, why were all these people treating me like the next time they would see me was at my funeral?
My career couldn’t be so tied together with Drake’s success now, could it?
That made no sense.
What had I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER 10 - DRAKE
First day of training camp!
First day I had a chance to show all these assholes that I belonged here, that I was part of the team, and that I would be the deep threat in the end zone they needed to bring home a championship.
It had taken a little getting used to the weather in Massachusetts - I much preferred the warmer weather of down south, but when you were in my situation, you couldn’t really choose where you played. All I needed to do was make the team and show people what I could do, and maybe I’d get to sign a big deal somewhere else where I could walk around without a jacket on for most of the year.
Today, at least, was sunny and warm, and I knew the humidity, which I was just getting accustomed to for the first time in my life, would be killer once we got out onto the field, but for now it wasn’t so bad.
I arrived at the facility at 8am, just as expected. Coach Armstrong was standing outside the front door, greeting the players, new and returning. When I came up to him, I held out my hand to shake with him, but he just looked down at his clipboard.
“Rollins. Good to see you,” was all he said. It was the least affected greeting I had ever gotten.
“Thanks, Coach! Happy to be here! Excited to help out.” Coach Armstrong grunted and ushered me inside. There, the attendants and assistants helped me out in getting my room assignment.
It took me a few minutes but I found my room, unlocked the door, and walked in, setting my bag down on the cold floor. Two single beds. “What the fuck is this?” I said out lout to no one in particular.
An assistant, passing by in the hallway, stuck his head in. “Everything cool?”
I turned around and faced him. “There are two beds in here! And they’re both so small!”
He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s two to a room. We have over a hundred guys in here right now, and this isn’t a hotel.”
“I need my own room, man, I can’t live like this!” I had not lived with a roommate in….I had never had a roommate!
The assistant disappeared. “Take it up with the management if you have a complaint.”
“I’ll do that!” I called out after him.
“I wouldn’t recommend it!” he called back, farther away this time.
I picked my bag back up and threw it on the bed closer to the window. I sat down next to it and looked around.
This room fucking sucked. There was no way I could stay here for a month. Not with a roommate. With any luck I’d have a lineman staying with me, some giant dude who snored. Ugh.
How could I get my own room?
I couldn’t even find a room service menu, what kind of place was this? I was better off in New York, at least there a guy could get some service!
I sat there feeling sorry for myself, wondering how I had gotten to this place, where I was a no-name undrafted free agent begging for scraps, willing to do anything to even make a team, let alone get a huge contract and endorsement deals like I had dreamed.
Of course, then memories of all the fun I had had during and after college came rushing back, and that put a smile on my face. I wondered what the policy around here was like for having girls over. I needed to find that out quick. I scrolled through my phone, wondering which girls I knew were local, and which would have to fly in.
I looked to my right and saw the other bed. Ugh. Maybe this wouldn’t work out at all.
The door opened and a bag came in, carried by a guy I had seen before when doing research on the Patriots. I wasn’t a fan of a particular team as a kid, I just liked watching all the greats do their thing under the bright lights, and try to pick up those moves and put my own spin on them.